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BY 



MRS. E. P. THORNDYKE. o 



" Thoughts that Breathe and Words that Burn." 




SAN FRANCISCO: 

Amanda M. Slocum, Book and Job Printer, 612 Clay St, 

ISSl. 




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Entered according to Act of Cong'ress, in tlie year 18S1, by 

MRS. E. P. THORNDYKE, 

in the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington, D. C. 



DEDICATION. 



To MY SisTKR, Miss L. M. Sxowk, 
Whose appreciative sj^mpathy has followed me through 
the experiences of an eventful life, this little volume 
is gratefully dedicated. 

E. P. Thorndyke. 



PROEM. 

To the Author, from the Spirit of Mrs. Hemans, through the medium- 
ship of Miss E. A. Pittsinger, November 7, I860, 



Inspiration! wondrous power divine, 
Come with thy magic spell, this soul entwine. 
Come wreathe around this brow thy radiant charm, 
Irradiate this face, enhance this form with beauty wondrous fair, 
Till peace, and joy, and hope and faith combine. 
To lead thee onward to that better day. 
When Truth shall shed abroad her glorious ray 
And Error there, no more, shall hold its blighting sway; 
In this higher life shall Freedom reign supreme, 
Enthroned in queenly grace, fair and serene, 
With robe of purest white, all flecked in beauty's sheen. 
Here Wisdom sits, in regal princely state, 
And mirrored from her brow, with glory all elate. 
Is future peace and joy, to all who lead the way 
Up to those higher realms, illumined by Truth's bright ray. 
Where angel harps are tuned to swell the joyous lay. 
Oh, then receive this spell of magic power. 
This sparkling flow of thought, that like an orient shower 
Brings joy and freshness on its wing, as on the scented air 
Each pearly drop is ever fraught with fragrance rich and rare; 
Then like a Star this inner light shall guide thee on thy way. 
And shall ere long around thy form, in radiant beauty play. 



INTRODUCTIOK 



With feelings of profound gratitude for the indications in all 
directions of advanced thought on the most radical issues of the 
day, I launch this little waif upon the sea of literature, only asking 
a fair and candid consideration at the shrine of public criticism. 

These poems were written during an eventful epoch of the 
world's history, and were penned amid the cares of domestic life, 
as well as the more onerous duties of a Av-ork devoted to Spiritual 
advancement and the cause of Woman. 

I claim that the positive source of the ideas herein contained, lie 
in the Spiritual realm, and point with prophetic finger, to coming 
events . 

The title I have chosen embodies the principles of the era upon 
whose threshold we are now standing, whose tidal wave will not 
recede until the daughters of the people have taken their place in 
the order of Nature's truest and noblest conception, viz : a completed 
humanity, with both hemispheres of the race moulded to a perfect 
adjustment, and in harmony with the spirit of the universe. 

To my sister woman everywhere, I dedicate this, my first venture, 
hoping that a responsive chord will be touched that may awaken 
them to a realization of their own inherent power, and a true appre- 
ciation of the great responsibility invested in them, as well as a 
knowledge of the fact that the age is waiting for their intelligent 
cooperation in all that pertains to a higher and purer civilization. 

To my brother man I appeal, through the pathos of this little 
book, and ask him to look well to the causes that have driven 
woman from the seclusion of his proffered protection, to plead her 
own cause before the bar of a common humanity. 

And to all, friend and foe alike, I now submit this volume, with 
heart-felt sympathy and truth. • 

THE AUTHOE. 



PRESCIETOE, 



Momentous questions are now agitating the world; questions which 
demand all the powers of man to develop, and give a proper impetus 
to civilization, and roll forward the car of progress toward the 
equinox of human freedom. These questions must be met and 
grappled with fearlessly, manfully, and earnestly. No half-way 
measures will stand the tefit amid the whirlpool of contending fac- 
tions. Greater than an "^ army with banners" are the mighty 
principles arraying themselves before the human mind at the 
present time. Gird on your armor, O, workers of the nineteenth 
century; O, minds who have been lead out of the wilderness of the 
pasi", through dark and intricate pathways, who have toiled up the 
mountain, where the rays of the morning sun now illume thy way, 
glorious will be its noonday splendor, glorious the work of thy 
hands! Old errors nuiot be met and combated; old superstitions 
must melt before the eenial influence of this sun of truth. 



ASTREA. 



A PROPHECY. 



Given to the author through Miss Houghton, Boston Mass., 1869. 




0, gather grapes and make the wine 
For coming clay's communion time; 
No time for sorrow, none for teprs, 

But work for truth in after years. 

The keystone of your life is laid 

In books unwritten now — 

The promise of thy life is here ; 

Then, falter not nor bow 

To this world's scorn nor sneer, 

But walk ye in the chosen path, 

Where angels lead thee on; 

The cloud, a " silver lining" hath. 

And every night, a morn. 

So is thy life — a changing scene ; 

The buds and blossoms that have bloomed. 

Are doomed to pass away ; 

But from their seeds, in early Spring, 

The brighter flowers will grow. 

Then list thee to the angel voice 

That gives thee thoughts like jewels bright- 

A diadem of purer light 

Than all the world can give. 



12 A PROPHECY. 

The fruitage of Pacific shore. 
Are grander than the eastern lore; 
For knowledge like the mines below, 
Like golden sands, from rivers flow. 
The fruit is truth; 'tis wisdom's choice 
Proclaimed abroad by woman's voice. 
You're standing on the eastern strand, 
To gather thoughts for western land; 
Then think not that the present hour 
Is garnered by inspiring power. 
The pen to-day, the sword ere long, 
Shall woman wield, and wield it strong; 
Then gather strength against the day. 
When you recall this passing lay. 




THE GREY DAWN OF THE MORN. 13 



THE GREY DAWN OF THE MORN. 



Given through the mediumship of Miss Houghton, and claiming to 
come from the Spirit of Milton. Boston, Mass., 1868. 



BORROWING o'er the woes of others, 
Struggling bravely 'gainst thine own, 
^ Like the very heart's pulsation, 
Seem thy far resounding tone. 

Rolling on, forever onward, 

Glory wakes its after chime. 
Till the stately numbers mingle 

With the thunder tones of time. 

When for this, for loving others, 

Come the world's neglect and scorn,' 

Then thy soul's prophetic vision. 
Met the Grey Daion of the Morn. 

Then thy thoughts with dreams of beauty. 
Paced the dark aisles of the years, 

Through the dim halls of the future. 
Till they peopled other spheres. 

Still from erst the darksome shadow, 

Rolls the river of thy song, 
Fretting still the giant hutments. 

Of the granite bridge of wrong. 

And with eloquence more potent, 
Having won from grief a voice, 

Swells the lofty peans upward. 
Bidding the oppressed rejoice. 



14 THE GREY DAWN OF THE MORN, 

Thou dicVst ask of man, thy brother, 
How can ye be true and brave, 

When to your caprice and passion, 
Woman Uves, and dies a slave! 

Thou did'st say that peace would never 
Woeful human nature greet, 

Till beside her holiest altars, 
Man and woman equal meet. 

Words of truth and deepest meaning, 
Chiming unto pleasant song, 

By the strength that man can bring thee, 
Woman yet shall right her wrong. 

Let the burning words resound 
Till with strong pulsation start. 

All the peopled world around, 
Struggling to creation's heart — 

Till thy hope hath found its goal, 
In the universal soul, 
Written there in fiery scroll. 
Courage, all whose hearts have fears, 
Freedom dries her children's tears. 
Tremble not for fear nor scorn, 
'Tis the Grey Dawn of the Morn! 

Upward from the dusky zenith, 
Mounts the bright auroral ray ; 

Downward, o'er the western shadows. 
Soon shall shine the new-born day. 

Lo! man's ancient faith is waning. 
With his iron rule of might; 

Woman, from her slumber rising. 
Upward struggles to the light. 



THE GREY DAWN OF THE MORN. J 5 

By a truer aim ennobled, 

See! she flings away her toys, 
And by higher hopes encircled, 

Seeking more than gilded joys. 

In the golden fields of labor, 

She shall prove she hath a soul, 
Worthy yet to be man's equal. 

Traveling to the self same goal. 

Woman, waken ! crush your fears, 
Freedom is not won by tears — 
Years of toil for heart and brain, 
Toil alone will break the chain. 

Waken! see the auroral ray, 
Now portends the coming day; 
Fly! ye fiends of hate and scorn, 
'Tis the Greij Dawn of the Morn! 




16 INVOCATION. 



INVOCATION. 



[URGING billows, ever surging 

To the silent, boundless shore, 

Bearing on your heaving bosom, 

Dearest loved ones gone before; 
Laving hearts with stern endeavor. 

With the strength of suffering born ; 
Lighting up the unknown distance 

Like the radiance of morn. 
Tell us, ye who scan the future, 

Can ye pierce the rifting cloud ? 
Can ye raise the drooping curtains, 

That our earthly paths enshroud? 
Tell us, does the air of Heaven 

Breathe around our toilsome way? 
Do the ever thronging Angels 

Guard our steps from day to day ? 
Nerve our heart then, 0, our brother; 

Press thou closer to our side, 
See'st thou not our courage falter? 

Hear'st thou not our foes deride? 
"Weeping sister, hover near us; 

For we know thy heart is kind. 
And we feel thy tears are falling, 

For the lone ones, left behind. 
Falling like the dews of heaven. 

On the dry and barren earth; 
Nourishing the desert places. 

Bringing buds, in beauty forth; 
Strengthning hearts, whose hopes lie buried 

'Mid the ashes of the past; 



TO ELIZA. 17 

Soothing, calming, care-worn bosoms, 

With the shades of Earth o'ercast. 
0, our guardian, ever near us! 

Feel we not thy folding arm ? 
Dare we falter, with thy presence 

Ever shielding us from harm ? 
Be we mindful, be we grateful, 

For this sum of human love; 
Linking us with jo}^, and rapture, 

To the Angel spheres above. 



TO ELIZA. 



A sister who went down on the "Brother Jonathan," off Crescent City, 
July 31st, 1865. 




'Y sister thou art gone; why do I weep? 

I feel the knowledge of thy better state. 
From life's rough pathway thou hast journeyed on 
With step serene, all hopeful and elate ; 
But dost thou cast no glances Earthward, back 
Along the darkened byways thou hast left? 
See'st thou no sister stand with outstretched arms, 
No mother heart all saddened and bereft ? 

0, yes, I feel thy presence near me oft. 

In joyous times, but in the hour of grief, 
I know thy spirit form is hovering near 

To twine this brow with an immortal wreath — 
A wreath of hope and of serener faith. 

Such as this toiling life cannot bestow. 
And teaching from the sunny spheres above. 

All that this yearning heart desires to know. 



OUR BAKNTER. 



OUR BANNER. 



A New Year's Poem, Avritten for the "Banner of Progress," Jan., 1866. 




ERE, on this Western shore, we dare 
To raise on high our Standard fair; 
With "Progress" written on each fold, 
We wave it o'er the Land of Gold, 
And ask a true responsive part 
From town and hamlet, field and mart. 
The greatest good we here propose 
To do, alike to friends and foes; 
Unmindful of the taunts or sneer. 
We trim our sails, and never veer. 
Our aim is high, our holy cause 
Sustained by Truth's eternal laws; 
And principles are here unfurled 
To benefit this brave new world. 

O'er sullen waters, dark and drear, 

We know our little bark must steer; 

That Superstition, old and gray, 

Will oft confront our onward way; 

That Bigotry and pious Cant 

Will frown and flutter, foam and rant.; 

That Hypocrites, with smiling face, 

In guise of friend, will seek a place, 

Upheld by our protecting care. 

When skies are bright and winds are fair; 

But still, with footsteps firm and true, 

We'll keep the "shining mark" in view. 

The New Year comes, laden with joy, 
To all who well their hours employ 



OUR BANNER. 19 

In labor for the human race, 
To elevate, and to erase 
The errors of the blinding past; 
Whose empire holds a field so vast 
That stoutest hearts almost despair 
To plant the germ of reason there. 
The highest light we here invoke 
What e'er a slumbering world awoke — 
Such light as o'er the ages gone 
Proclaimed a new Messiah born, 
Whose earnest voice and milder sway 
Would usher in a brighter day. 

That day has come; its waking power 
Unfolds a high, a heavenly dower, 
And bids us hail with joy sincere, 
Our kindred spirits hovering near, 
To aid us in our work sublime 
O'er all the ministries of time! 
They waiting stand, with beaming eyes, 
Whose light reflects from purer skies, 
Where blending hues of radiant joy 
Have no dark tint of Earth's alloy. 
Inspired by these, 0, who would fear 
The angry word or stinging sneer? 
Let us our brother's path pursue — 
"Forgive, they know not what they do." 

A happy year to one and all 

Whose eye on this fair page may fall ; 

And when the Year now blithe and young 

At last has ''round the circle swung," 

We hope to greet you, and to find 

A ready hand and willing mind 



20 



CONSERVATISM vs. SPIRITUALISM. 



To help the car of Progress on, 

Until the higher goal is won. 

Then with firm faith we'll take our stand, 

And wave our Banner o'er the land 

From lake and sea to farther shore, 

'' Excelsior " f orevermore. 




CONSERVATISM VS. SPIRITUALISM. 21 



CONSERVATISM VS. SPIRITUALISM. 



THE above subject has been suggested by hearing a person 
proclaim himself a "Conservative Spiritualist." Such an 
one, in the opinion of all who have studied the sublime 
principles of this philosophy, is a.n anomaly; for Spiritualism, in 
all its tendencies, is revolutionary, progressive, and radical. 

It is the one progressive religion of the age; constantly de- 
veloping the mind upward, step by step, forever. There are no 
barriers of creed or formula, no pulpit or platform, high or broad 
enough to circumscribe its onward march. It comes to the lowly 
one, toiling for the sustenance of every-day life, and whispers of 
another state of existence, where position is measured by worth, 
unlike the false positions of earth. It comes proclaiming liberty 
to the captive, and bids the slave go free. It comes as a messen- 
ger of good to all, saying to man, "There is no redeemer outside 
of your own soul; save yourself; look within; there is no escaping 
from the penalties of wrong doing." Spiritualism reaches forth 
into all the avenues of existence, invading old, time-worn institu- 
tions, saying to all, "Come up higher; throw off the shackles of 
ignorance and superstition; carry your religion into every-day 
life; do not profess one thing and practice another. Have more 
of the heart, and less of hollow forms; fewer Sunday prayers and 
more week-day charities." It comes as a living voice from human- 
ity in that world just over the other side, where our loved ones are, 
bringing the wisdom of higher minds to us, through earthly media; 
and we must come like little children, learning in the spirit of 
humility, always using our higher reason to digest, but not our 
prejudice to confound. It is no respector of persons, often em- 
ploying the simple ones of earth, to confound the wise in their 
own conceit. And, finally, it comes to woman, the patient sufferer 
of ages, with healing on. its wing, proclaiming a gospel of power, 
and use, and beauty, that the selfish creed-makers of, Christendom 
never " dreampt of in their philosophy." To the conservative 
investigator there might be a gentle hint, in a simple quotation: 

"A little learnino^ is a dangerous thinar. 
Drink deep, or taste not the Pieran spring." 



22 THE HIGHER BIRTH. 



THE HIGHER BIRTH. 



Ou reading a poem inscribed to the Mother and Family of James R. 
Miller, by Lottie B. Goodrich. This young man was stabbed on Pacific 
street, San Francisco, and lived only a few hours. 



NO; ''not gone!" Speak no such word 

Above that early shrouded bier, 
But rather say a higher faith, 
Shall whisper to that mother's ear, 
He is not gone, thy darling son! 
His earthly form is laid awa}^. 
But, in immortal raiment clad, 
He walks beside you, day by day. 

"There is no death;" then, sister dear, 

Droop not in sadness o'er the tomb; 
Your brother stands, a silent guest, 

Within your shrouded, darkened room; 
He fain would speak and tell you all 

His fond heart feels for you to-day ; 
0, grieve him not with useless tears, 

Nor force his yearning soul away. 



Think not your fruitless, frantic grief, 

Moves not the spirit by your side ; 
That stricken heart is human yet — 

The gulf between is not so wide, 
And o'er the silent river comes . 

A message oft to dwellers here, 
That bid us dry our falling tears. 

And cease our sorrow o'er the bier. 



THE HIGHER BIRTH. 23 

And with a faith brought forth in pain, 

He conies to bid your spirits roam, 
Far, far beyond these fleeting joys, 

And learn that earth is not your home. 
A soothing influence he would bring 

Unto your hearts, all sad and sore, 
A wreath of bright immortal bloom, 

To deck your brows forevermore. 

Then harken to the spirit voice! 

Ye dwell too much in outward things. 
Your brother's soul you may rejoice; 

His guardian now a message brings — 
" dry your tears," and look above 

To that bright world, his dwelling place, 
Though now the veil is dark between. 

You'll see your brother face to face. 

You'll hear his voice at twilight hour. 

In cheering cadence round you float; 
And as you bend the listening ear, 

To catch the welcome spirit-note 
His well-known form before you stands. 

Not in the vesture of the tomb. 
But robed in beauty, crowned with light. 

He points the path and gilds the gloom. 



24 BORN AGAIN. 



BORN AGAIN. 



Annie B. Carpenter, a member of "Children's Progressive Lyceum," 
passed to Spirit life, from San Francisco, July, 1S65, aged 12 years. 



|H, Annie, we are weeping, 
But, darling, not for thee ; 

We know thy pure young spirit 

From earthly bonds is free; 
We know that round thy tender form 

Are heavenly breezes bland, 
That waft to us thy presence 

From the beauteous Summer Land. 
We know that here thy pilgrimage 

Was borne 'mid grief and pain ; 
We would not call thee, Annie, 

To this weary world again. 

The badge now worn upon our breast 
Is gemmed with living pearls; 

The banner in your little hand 
With love to all unfurls. 

We mourn not that your stricken form 

Has vanished from our sight — 
That in the* higher Lyceum 

You march with angels bright; 
But oh, we feel, dear Annie, 

That perhaps we did not quite 
Regard thy gentle ministries — 

We did not sec the light 
That circled round your pathway, 

As you ncared the Spirit Shore, 



BORN AGAIN. 25 

While your ever watchful Guardians 

Opened wide the "mystic door." 
We did not hear the whisper, 

So full of tender love, 
As they wooed our gentle Annie 

To the Spirit Home above. 

Oh, no; for we are blinded; 

These earthly cares obscure 
Our higher, brighter vision. 

And leave us weak and poor. 

Then bring the influence holy, 

Our spirits so much need; 
Our footsteps slowly falter ; 

Our hearts too often bleed ; 
We need the higher ministry 

That angels only bring; 
We long to hear the cheering strains 

Celestial beings sing. 

To you this simple tribute, 

From the Lyceum is due ; 
We've led your earthly footsteps— 

Our hearts now turn to you; 
Your steps are now before us — 

J ou lead the shining way. 
The watchword, "Truth and Progress," 

The goal, Eternal Day! 

Our way is dark and somber, 

But yours is bright and clear; 
Oh, bring the Lyceum above 

To greet the Lyceum here. 



26 OUR LITTLE FREDDIE. 



OUR LITTLE FREDDIE. 



A grandson of the author, who joined the angels, at the age of ten months, 
from Rockland, Maine. 



DEDICATED TO A BEREAVED DAUGHTER. 



lEND me words of comfort, mother," 
Darkly looms the future now, 
Chilling waves of hapless sorrow 

Surging over heart and brow. 
0, I need your living presence 

In this agonizing hour! 
For your tones are ever hopeful, 

And they bring a soothing power. 
Tell me of that home of beauty — 

Earthly life seems dark and sad; 
All the landscape, to my vision, 

Is in somber vestments clad. 
Yainly yearn I now for something 

To replace my former joy; 
Tell me, have the angels called him? 

Did they take my darling boy? 

"Send me words of comfort, mother!" 

How I miss that little face. 
With his tender baby glances, 

Full of joyous, childish grace! 
Where, in all the coming future. 

Shall my heart for solace go? 
Tell me, mother, do the angels 

Feel for all our earthly woe? 
Will they bring my darling to me, 

When my heart is sad and lone, 



OUR LITTLE FREDDIE. 27 

Yearning for his baby presence, 

And his cheering, joyful tone? 
Does your faith point upward, mother, 

As it did in days of yore? 
If so, will my darling know mo 

When I reach the Spirit Shore ? 




28 



CHILDREN'S LYCEUM. 



CHILDREN'S LYCEUM. 



Written for the first anniversary of tlie Children's Progressive Lyceum, 
San Francisco, July, 1866. 




E sing our amiiversary song; 
We hasten all to greet ; 
0, raise the starry banner high, 
And march with buoyant feet! 
Above us is a shining band 

Arrayed in living light; 
These are our happy spirit friends, 
With joyful faces bright. 

We want no solemn visage, 

To celebrate this da}^, 
We want no gloomy, creed-bound souls 

To lead the joyous way. 
We wish to see you happy. 

And all of you to know 
That our Progressive Lyceum 

Is something more than sliow. 

'Tis true, our waving banners 

Are lovely to behold ; 
But, friends, there is a meaning deep 

Within each azure fold. 
Our badges, too, are symbols, 

Whose purpose all may see; 
Commencing at Life's fountain, 

March on to Liberty! 



CHILDREN'S LYCEUM. 



29 



And ever, on our journey, 

Life's purpose full in view. 
The Lyceum in its teachings. 

Will make us good and true;. 
And when our earthly record 

Is filled with deeds of love, 
We'll march with kindred spirits 

In the Lyceum above. 




30 TO MAGGIE. 



TO MAGGIE, 



From Dr. Kane in Spirit Life. 



MAGGIE, from my spirit home 

I come to greet thee now, 
Come to undo a fearful wrong 
And higher homage show; 
And never in my earthly life, 

While seated by thy side. 
Could joy intenser fill my breast 
Or in my heart abide. 

I come with thoughts serene and high 

To give thee words of cheer, 
And tell thee, lives so rudely rent 

Will be united here. 
Then do not fold thy spirit wing. 

But soar with me away, 
And mingle with the elements 

That merge in endless day. 

0, may the clouds that darkly rolled 

Above thy youthful head, 
And burst at last, with fearful force, 

By pride and passion fed, 
Allure thee up, with faith divine. 

Thou sorely stricken one. 
And bid thy silent, suffering heart 

To say "Thy will be done." 

I would, 0, thou devoted one! 

That I could have thee heed 
Hoio much thy silent suffering 

Has caused my heart to bleed; 



TO MAGGIE. 31 



Then 0, remember, Maggie dear, 
That earthly wrong and pride 

Will hover round our spirit life, 
And with our souls abide. 

Then heed the fearful lesson well; 

Though crushed has been thy life, 
Embalmed alone with memories — 

With tearful memories rife — 
Fold to thy heart the hope beyond, 

And guard thy earthly way ; 
So shall we meet, my Maggie dear, 

In realms of endless day. 




32 ONE MORE UNFORTUNATE. 



ONE MORE UNFORTUNATE. 



A correspondent of the Bulletin, writing from China, thus speaks of an 
incident that came under his observation. 



fHE most beautiful girl in Shanghai, but belonging to that 
class which the French, with a kind of subtle delicacy, call 
oubleties, died the other day. It was thought that possibly 
there had been foul play, and an autopsy was proposed. One of 
her letters from her heart-broken mother, dwelling amid the granite 
hills of New Hampshire, begging her erring daughter to return 
and everything would be forgiven, was couched in the most devout 
spirit of love and charity, and showed that the mother and daugh- 
ter had moved in the most refined circles of society; yet this 
beautiful creature, after a brief career of shame in China, died 
from 'mania a potii. 

" One more unfortunate, weary of breath, 
Rashly importunate, gone to her death ! 

These things make a terrible impression on those of us who dwell 
afar in Kathay." 

A wide range of vision opens before us on the perusal of this 
brief paragraph, as in sympathy we are transported to that mother's 
home "amid the granite hills of New Hampshire." What high hopes 
blasted ! what wailing chords of anguish gush forth, and what sobs 
of despair come Avelling up from the mother's heart, as she frantic- 
ally seizes the pen and implores her erring daughter to return to 
her forsaken home, assuring her that at least a mother's love lias 
not abandoned her. 

Mark that poor mother's altered mien; the faltering step; the 
dark hair tinged Avith gray; the yearning, fathomless gaze, striving 
to recall the past, blissful hours of her beautiful child's infancy and 
girlhood, when she rocked her to her rosy slumber, or guided her 
baby footsteps. But all this is now, alas! but the pleasant back- 
ground that stretches away, only serving fearfully to light up a dark 
picture in the present — a picture that is benumbing all her faculties, 
and paralyzing the currents of her life. 

And now her mind is all absorbed, and her ear attuned to catch 
the least intelligence, painful as it may be of her darling child. 



ONE MORE UNFORTUNATE. 33 

Yes, her darling still, with all the dark stains on her young life. 
A mother's heart never forsakes, though all the world step aside. 

Go with us to that northern home, when the intelligence of the 
daughter's death, far away among strangers, is borne to the stricken 
ones. May we hope that the beautiful religion of the angels will 
sustain them as the curtain closes over this earthly scene, and the 
erring wanderer, purified by suffering, and arrested by the holy 
influence of a mother's love, is mingling again in spirit amid the 
scenes of her young years, ere the syren voice that lured her aside 
had sounded in her ear, and led her by its fearful spell from wo- 
man's high estate — a spectacle over which the angels weep. 

And this brings us to another side of this fearful history, that 
has been sketched for us so briefly, yet feelingly, and thrown across 
the waste of ocean, to be caught up by sympathizing hearts. It is a 
home history, and would fill columns, and yet 'tis an old, old story, 
and is responded to by thousands of suffering hearts, whose homes 
have been desolated. 

The cause — it need not be told; it walks abroad at noonday, 
scattering its fearful influence amid earth's fairest flowers. The 
remedy ? Ah, that is the question. Look at the effect, ye fathers, 
absorbed in your lust of gain ! Shudder at the picture, fond 
brother ! 'Tis in your midst — even at your very door — and worse 
than the pestilence that walketh at noon-day. Purify yourselves , 
and go forth! 




34 WAYSIDE BLOSSOMS. 



WAYSIDE BLOSSOMS. 



lUMMER breezes moaning slowly 
Through the forest bower, 
Winter, with its somber shadow, 
Thrown o'er hill and tower. 

Lulling, with their mystic grandeur, 

Human woes to rest; 
Sweeping o'er the chord of being 

Anthems from the blest. 

Springing gaily from the wayside, 
Hope's bright blossoms blow, 

Sending joy through every portal, 
Soothing human woe. 

Wiping from the cheek of sorrow 

All its griefs away, 
Binding up life's broken vases 

For the coming day. 

So we walk life's narrow pathway, 
Sown Avith grief and care, 

But a spirit goes beside us. 
Soothing our despair. ' 

Weep no more, oh ! silent mourner, 

Know that joy is near. 
Lift thy spirit from its sorrow ; 

Look! thy way is clear. 



\ 



WAYSIDE BLOSSOMS. 35 

Through this gloomy night of darkness 

Hope's bright morning gleams, 
Raise thy glad eyes to its radiance, 

Rest thee in its beams. 

So thy journey shall be onward, 

Upward to the light — 
Weaving from the mystic shadows, 

Golden tissues bright 




36 



LABOR IS WORSHIP. 



LABOR IS WORSHIP. 




ORK, earnest woman, work! 

Nor lay 3'oiir armor by ; 
The morning brings a golden light, 
Born of the evening sky. 



Work, earnest souls, nor faint 
Before your task is done, 

The victor may the spoils enjoy, 
Your work is scarce begun. 

Take up the tuneful song. 
Heard by the favored few 

Whose souls to music are attuned, 
The brave alone are true. 



Say not the way is dark, 

The end is yet afar; 
Work in the present, trusting still 

To truth's bright guiding star. 

There's fainting souls to cheer. 

Oppression's hand to stay, 
The dust of error gathers still 

About the pilgrim's way. 

Then let your minds illume 
The misty troubled dream. 

Where ignorance, with blinding force, 
Pollutes life's flowing stream. 



LABOR IS WORSHIP. 37 

The ballot! who may know 

How woman's hand will bless, 
When vested with a freeman's right 

Her mandate to express. 

Then keep the goal in view, 
Inspiring heart and hand. 
Let woman's birthright be secured 
. O'er all this favored land. 

The mountains and the vales 

Are speaking to the sea, 
In language potent as the storm, 

"Our daughters shall be free." 

Free as the mind is free, 

Speaking to high and low, 
A voice reverberates the land, 

''Let thou my people go." 




38 WHAT CHEER. 

WHAT CHEER. 




ADIANT forms are waiting, 

With garlands in their hands, 
To deck thee for the altar. 

While heaven's chosen bands, 
Arrayed in shining garments. 

Are thronging round thy way. 
To cheer thy earthly journey, 

Toward the wished-for day. 
The good that's in the future 

'Tis not for thee to know; 
Enough that faith allures thee 

Beyond all earthly show, 
And leads thy feet reliant. 

Along the thorny way. 
Toward the golden portal 

Of never ending day. 
0, then, be wise and prudent, 

And good on all bestow. 
Remembering not the sorrow 

That bowed thy spirit low. 
With onward step exultant. 

Thy path with honor tread ; 
For know thou hast been chosen 

To raise the drooping head. 
Of all whose wayward natures 

Have led them from the right. 
And point, with words prophetic, 

Toward the coming light ; 
And then with thought resplendent. 

With power it shall be given. 
To turn the wildly erring one 

Unto the light of heaven. 
Deem not the coming morrow 

Will on thee darkly frown ; 
For, as thou hast borne the cross, 

So shalt thou wear the crown. 



BE STRONG. -39 



BE STRONG. 



>E strong, 0, woman heart, not wisest, best, 
"^ Are the pent feelings of a mother's breast 
" Before she learns, with instinct half divine, 
To lay her treasures on no earthly shrine ; 
But trusting to the power that leads her forth, 
Accepts the omen of a higher birth ; 
This then, the meed that sorrow brings to thee, 
And bids thy soul rejoice in being free; 
The truer freedom that is won by tears, 
And lays its trophies in the lap of years. 
That others, guiding o'er life's sea, their bark, 
May catch the glory of its faintest spark. 
From shriven hearts, the highest light is cast, 
Wrought by the anvil and the furnace blast; 
The Yulcan spirit that subdues the world 
And casts her children in a purer mold. 
Then go ye forth with hope all clear and bright, 
For morn is breaking from the shades of night, — 
The bright exultant morning of the soul. 
That lights earth's children to a higher goal. 
Where Justice will be poised by weight and scale, 
And Truth walk radiant with a coat of mail. 
This then, the dawn of that bright day foretold 
That sages sighed for, and did ne'er behold; 
But to thine eyes, the mystic scroll is given 
To view the grandeur of the spirit's heaven. 
Then wonder not that through earth's darksome way. 
Thy feet have led thee to the dawning day 
Whose portal opes upon thy wondering gaze, 
With all the splendor of its noontide rays; 



40 BE STRONG. 

But grasp the weapons lying by thy side, 

And launch thy bark upon the flowing tide. 

A broad expansive ocean is before, 

Whose waves are laving bright the farther shore, 

Of a fair sunny Isle, thy future home. 

Where all tlie treasures of thy heart shall come, 

And bid thy mother love again rejoice 

To hear the echo of each loving voice, 

While fervently thy heart shall say Amen ! 

To greet the objects of its love again. 

A work more radiant than all else before, 

Is waiting ready at thy spirit's door. 

Thou see'st it not, but soon it will be given ; 

The mandate comes to thee from highest heaven ; 

Then ready be ; thyself with thought prepare ; 

The way is plain, the landscape green and fair. 

Along the widening cycle of thy way. 

Behold the promise of the future day 

Whose morning beams are piercing earth and sky, 

And bidding ignorance and discord fly. 




TAKE COURAGE. 41 



TAKE COURAGE. 



Written in Boston, Massachusetts, March 14, 1869. 




forth to-day! 0, doubting heart! 

Thy sky is bright and clear ; 
The winged messengers of love 

Dwell in thine atmosphere. 
Their pinions fan thy fevered brow, 

Their seal is on thy lip ; 
And honeyed words, ye may not hear, 

Like fragrant dew ye sip. 

Ye walk where heavenly breezes 

Are wafting healing balm, 
Thy footsteps leading ilpward, 

Where life has no alarm ; 
Where all is fair and tender. 

And words are not in vain. 
The friends, whose name are legion, 

Take up the glad refrain. 

For, sounding from that ''Better Land," 

The welkin yet shall ring 
With glowing music, deep and strong, 

And thoughts the angels bring. 
In garb of truth and purity. 

Then walk thy earthly way; 
No somber thoughts must mar thee now, 

Or tinge thy dawning day. 



42 TAKE COURAGE. 

Thy glowing path, for which we've toiled 

And labored on for years, 
Is opening wide before thee now, 

Revealed through shining tears, 
Whose softening influence holy 

Adorns and elevates, 
Subdues the wayward fancy, 

And nobler power creates. 
Let no despondent thoughts unfold. 

Nor retrospection, sore, 
Benumb and stultify the mind. 

But look ye on before ; 
Look to the shining future, 

Leave sorrow with the past. 
Letting its dark receding wave 

Flow from thee swift and fast. 

All hail! the hopes and lessons 

That wait upon this hour ! 
In other lands, 'mid other scenes, 

You'll grasp your soul's bright dower; 
You'll feel the current deep and strong. 

Nor fear to stem the tide ; 
For know ye not the seers of old 

Are walking by j^our side? 

The fearless ones, whose mortal breath 

Went up 'mid smoke and flame ; 
Yet left an influence ye have felt 

That seeks no empty fame. 
Ye know the truth ; then dare proclaim 

No idle life for thee; 
Before thy birth the seal was set 

That made thy spirit free. 



TAKE COURAGE. 43 



We've seen the sorrow of thy life ; 

We've felt its direst wrong ; 
But every pang thy bosom knew 

Hath made thee true and strong- 
Hath paved the way for angels, 

To come and enter in 
The deep recesses, where thy God 

Dwells free from dust and din. 

Within the living temple, ' 

The altar and the shrine, 
Stored deep within the mysteries 

Of the great eternal mind ; 
'Mid grander scenes than mortals 

Can see, or feel, or know, 
Yet, as the ages ripen. 

Still deeper, stronger grow 
The power to grasp and handle, 

To lessen and subdue, 
The difficulties in the path 

Of all who DARE BE TRUE. 









U WOMAN AND MAN. 



WOMAN AND MAN. 



Written in reply to a communication from "Esop Jr.," published in the 
"Banner of Progress," August, 1867. 



I grant I am a woman; but no more a woman for being Lord Brutus' wife; 
I grant I am a woman; but withal more than Cato's daughter; 
If I am stronger than my sex, 'tis by virtue of my Womanhood, 

In spite of Brutus, or of Cato. — Shakspeare, improved. 



ET us take a survey of the status of the "first pair," as the 
representatives of the race, from the history furnished us by 
Moses, and embellished by wise theologians and pulpit ora- 
tors all the way down from that startling period when God spake 
worlds into existence, and commenced to people this little planet — • 
Earth — by creating man and woman. 

The history of woman in the Bible furnishes us with very meagre 
outlines, it is true, for the leading minds of that time were too intent 
on parading the attributes of the masculine side of creation, out of 
which were evolved a God to rule the universe. But enough is 
given to hold up the mirror and show that our much-abused Mother 
was the first to awaken to a perception of the possibilities which, 
though vaguely shadowed forth, were to crown the perfect develop- 
ment of the race; showing that her spiritual and perceptive facul- 
ties, being more quickened, xoisdom, typified by the serpent, was 
presented her. Theologians, in casting about for a solution of this 
great starting point, have been pleased to call it "Adam's fall," and 
have stigmatized and anathematized woman, in conjunction with 
the serpent, for being instrumental in bringing a^^at such a dire 
calamity. Thus mankind have ever rewarded their benefactors. The 
Bible leaves us in the dark as to the sex of the angel whom God sent 
with a flaming sword to drive our "first parents" from their sylvan 
retreat. But there is no doubt that the masculine principle was 
there represented; hence the "executive power" displayed. Theol- 
ogy has unwittingly joaid woman a compliment in this connection, 
by placing her as the leader up into higher conditions, as well as 
stimulating man to a true perception of his own capabilities. It is 
not surprising that the human mind at that age should conceive of a 
masculine God, for it had not arrived at that condition where it 



WOMAN AND MAN. 45 

could comprehend the higher feminine attributes, which are love, 
mercy, and wisdom. The leading conceptions of an age always deter- 
mine the status of that age. 

But the first great decade of the ages is completed, and we now 
stand on the threshhold of another era, where woman must take her 
rightful place beside her brother; not as a rival, but as an intelligent 
co-operator in all the affairs of humanity. She has heretofore been 
a blind slave to his whims and caprices. And the first step in that 
direction will be to restore the equilibrium of sex. Mankind have 
been trying to walk erect with the right side paralyzed, and conse- 
quently have performed an unnatural locomotion. As with indi- 
viduals, so with nations. 

Woman in the past has only performed the lower functions in 
maternity; never dreaming that she represents the higher creative 
power of the planet, or that Nature has consigned to her the great 
work of forming the God-like human soul, male as well as female. 
To do this nobly, and in accordance with the great design, she must 
be educated, in the highest sense of the word; she must cultivate all 
her powers, aU her inherent attributes; she must understand, and 
enter into all the avenues of life. No more determining of artificial 
bounds of sex that have been engendered in the ignorance of the 
past. "Maternity is the decree of Nature." True, and by virtue 
of that decree, woman is raised above all others in her added powers 
and capabilities. 

And when she bears a part in the legislation of the American 
Republic, there will be an impetus given to civilization that will 
startle the nations from their lethargy, and furnish the crowning act 
in the drama of human jprogress. 



46 ODE. 



ODE. 

AYritten for tlie first anniversary of the Woman's Suflfrage Society, San 
Francisco, October, 1S70. 



jN^E year ago to-day a Spartan band — 
The truest, bravest, noblest of the land — 
Assembled in this city by the sea, 
Proclaiming boldly, woman must he free! 
" The ballot gained, can aught else be denied! 
Let bigots sneer, for Jess have martyrs died, 
We see the future; here we count the cost; 
The battle for the right is never lost." 
From small beginnings see the forest grow, 
The cities' tumult fill the vale below. 
Old Ocean's heaving bosom covered o'er 
With stately ships, while on the teeming shore 
The din of labor, every freeman's pride. 
Is moving commerce with a o-iant stride. 



'•t) 



But 'tis a bolder theme we sing to-night; 
These are but shadows to the morning light. 
Lo woman comes! the ballot in her hand, 
Opening the portal to a structure grand, 
Enchantress of the future ! free to steer 
The Ship of State beyond the breakers clear; 
Bringing her mother-love, sacred and pure. 
To bear upon the laws, for error's cure; 
Redeeming man from stern Mosaic rule 
That stamps its impress on our modern school; 
No more the subject ruled for selfish power, 
The worshiped, fondled plaything of the hour, 
But nature's queen in royal robes arrayed, 
Her sceptre love, her throne the world's arcade. 



ODE. 47 

So we, to-night, recount with glowing pen 
The past years work, to be completed when 
The Suffrage Ship is safely moored away 
With victory sure, within some land-locked bay. 
Good friends be cheered! the present is aglow 
With hope and promise; all the past doth show 
A prophecy that time will render sure, 
Then watch and work and patiently endure. 
Humanity with bleeding heart doth plead 
For woman's influence in this hour of need; 
The fabled story of poor Adam's fall 
Has reached a climax, in this modern thrall; 
The subject, woman, and the master, man. 
Hath brought the Nations under fearful ban. 

We ask a hearing ; here we press our claim 

To our own birthright in a woman's name, 

Give us the Ballot; with it comes the power 

To right old wrongs; then consecrate this hour 

To woman's effort; all her latent strength 

Like pent-up forces, must assert itself. 

The noble river in its majesty 

Among green glades while sweeping to the sea, 

Dammed and diverted from its native course 

By artificial barriers of force, 

O'erflows its banks and inundates the land, 

Demoralizing all the work of man. 

So woman's nature, damned by man-made laws, 

O'ersteps all bounds, and man her brother, draws 

Into the vortex where they both must fall. 

Cursed by the tyranny that crushes all. 

Let nobler motives move the people now, 

Before whose mandates even kings must bow. 

Till every woman in Earth's broad domain 

Shall rend her fetters and cast off her chain. 



48 AWAKE. 



AWAKE. 

DEDICATED TO THE TRUE AND EARNEST WOMEN OF CALIFORNIA. 
NOVEMBER, 16, 1866. 



[PEAK thou for Woman, glorious theme! 

Write with a pen of fire! 
Proclaim her world-wide destiny 

Along the electric wire. 
Raise thou the fallen ones of earth — 

What nobler work to do, 
When distant generations will 

Give back the homage due! 



"b^ 



Learn well thy task, with zeal pursue 

Thy heaven-appointed way; 
The thoughtless may ignore thy work, 

Yet heed not what they say. 
The ages wait, with lagging foot. 

The God-power in the race. 
To hurl the truth, with purpose high, 

In Error's dastard face. 

Old Superstition rears its head 

Within Earth's fairest bowers, 
And seeks to blast, with poisonous breath, 

Her brightest, sweetest flowers; 
Thy work is there, to speak the truth, 

Though Bigots sternly frown. 
To tread beneath thy fearless foot 

And crush the monster down. 



AWAKE. 

Fear not the task will be too great, 

For strength to thee is given, 
Through thorny paths thou has been led 

Unto the gates of heaven. 
Then will ye halt, and waiting stand, 

With all this knowledge bright, 
And see the hosts of Error march 

To overrule the right. 

Then seize the pen; with burning ire 

Awake the slumbering mind; 
Pour God-like truth, in jDotent words, 

Upon all human kind. 
The spell is broke ; the angel world 

Is hovering near to all ; 
Dull is the life, and dark the mind, 

Whereon no light may fall. 



49 




50 THE PEN IS MIGHTIER THAN THE SWORD. 



THE PEN IS MIGHTIER THAN THE SWORD." 



DEDICATED TO J. M. ROBERTS, EDITOR OP " MIND AND MATTER. 




[RAYE words are mighty. Happy he who sees 
with prescient eye, 

The coming time, resplendent as meteors in the 
sky! 
The age of Light and Progress, that bards have long 

foretold 
In words prophetic, on the page they gleam like burn- 
ished gold. 
So like great Nature's anthem, or the hero's deathless 

fame, 
Shall be the echoes of that voice that dares high Truth 

proclaim. 
Speak to the lowly and the weak, inspire the doubting 

soul ; 
So shall ye soar to loftier heights, and nobler spheres 

control. 
Our country lifts her standard high o'er all the hill- 
tops now, 
And brings a crown of promise to deck her people's 

brow: 
Far in the van heroic souls are clad in bright array, 
To lead the march of Nations, and point th' unerring 

way. 
We catch their deep, inspiring tone — we hear their 

battle-cry — 
'Tis borne aloft in swelling hearts toward the towering 

sky, 



THE PEN IS MIGHTIER THAN THE SWORD. 



51 



And finds response in distant lands, where Freedom 

lies in chains, 
Forged by relentless tyrants from vile and subtle brains. 
Reach forth the hand of sympathy, and gird the earth 

around! 
Proclaim the mandate of the Free unto the farthest 

bound ! 
^''Tlie 'pen is mightier than the sword!'' Brave words 

can never die ; 
Then in the cause of Liberty, rear thou the standard 

high. 




52 , TO ADA. 



TO ADA. 



On lier Birthday. From thy Mother, Rockland, Maine, August 3, 1868. 

[HY natal day! again the year 
Has glided by, and lo! 'tis here; 
^ And standing on our native strand. 
Where northern billows, swelling grand, 

Encircle, with their merry mirth. 
The sturdy land that gave you birth ; 
Your mother, with a hopeful heart, 
In all your trials bears a part. 

And backward, o'er the bygone years 
Though watered oft with bitter tears, 
Can view the wisdom that has led; 
And smoothed how oft life's thorny bed; 

And now, with finger pointmg bright, 
It leads from out the stormy night 
To clearer skies, wiiere gentler gales 
Shall fill for thee the swelling sails, 

To waft thy bark with hopeful glee 
Upon the future's unknown sea; 
May you be wise, your heart rejoice. 
And heed the spirit's "still small voice. 

That speaking to your heart to-day 
Shall guide and lead your feet away 
From the low planes, where sordid hearts 
Do congregate, to swell the marts 

Of worldly pride and selhsh care. 
That desecrate the temple fair, 
And stultify the God-like part 
Whose shrine is every human heart. 



TO MRS. H. E. G. 53 



TO MRS. H. E. G. 



ON HER BIRTHDAY, APRIL 17, 1880. 




Y friend, I would an offering lay 
On this, thy Earth-life's natal day. 
Nor sordid boon I claim for thee, 
It would not make thy spirit free; 
It would retard the higher power 
That hovers round thy natal hour. 
I would point up with hope and joy 
To gild the gold without alloy. 
That in the higher mansions lay 
For all that lead the shining way; 
Who do the deeds thy hand hath done 
From early morn to setting sun ; 
Who feed the hungry, clothe the poor, 
Nor turn the beggar from the door. 
I see for thee a grander power 
Stretch onward from this natal hour, 
A widening path of hope and joride, 
Outwrought with angels by thy side — 
Thy mother-love, thy woman's soul, 
Shall bear thee to that higher goal. 
Through earth's dark path thy steps shall lead 
To help the stricken in their need, 
To smooth the bed of pain and death, 
Bringing the sufferer back to health. 
Thy onward path shall yet be bright, 
Resplendent with the power of Right. 
Go forward, then; be not deterred 
By frown, or sneer, or cruel word ; 



54^ TO MRS. H. E. G. 

The age is dark with crime" s deep thrall, 
Censure and sorrow meet us all; 
The angels turn their face away 
When Earth's fair children go astray; 
The mother, bending from the skies, 
Surveys us oft through weeping eyes. 
With armor bright pursue thy way 
Toward the grander, purer day, 
When you will stand with angels bright 
Beyond the turmoil and the bliglit, 
And words of love and joy will hear — 
"Daughter, well done! Reward is here." 




DEDICATED TO MRS. O. M. W. 55 



DEDICATED TO MRS. 0. M. W. 



ON HER FIFTIETH BIRTHDAY, APRIL 5, 1881. 



lAUSE and listen! Angel voices 

Swell the corridors above; 
Fifty years, with solemn music, 

Canopied by deeds of love. 
Pause and listen! earthly sister, 

Round thee floats the Seraph song; 
Noble deeds — sublime, immortal, 

Borne by spirit bands along. 

Pause and listen ! Earnest voices 

Mingle with the pean high; 
List the lessons that they bring thee, 

Upward turn thy wondsring eye. 
Fields of ether float above thee, 

Mapped be3^ond thy eager view; 
Full of hope and bold endeavor. 

Comes the lesson unto you. 

Pause and listen! Are ye ready 

For the earnest, crowding bands 
Asking thee to grasp the weapons 

Borne aloft by angel hands? 
Fifty years! Oh, pause and listen! 

Are ye ready for the fray ? 
Year eventful — full of warning, 

Ushers in this natal day. 



56 DEDICATED TO MRS. 0, M. W. 

Pause and listen ! Earthly treasures 

Lay their blessings at thy feet; 
Of thy stewardship be mindful 

Ere another year ye greet. 
0, be mindful of the mission 

To no other one consigned! 
Let its nobler, higher duties 

Raise aloft thy thoughtful mind. 

Lo, they pass. The grave procession, 

Filing through the streets of time — 
Years that hold our best endeavor; 

Years that chant a funeral chime. 
Ere another year shall greet thee, 

Higher, nobler deeds unfold, 
Bravely meet the coming crisis. 

Fling thy standard to the world. 

Listen for the angel voices 

Floating through the ambient air; 
Notes of warning — words of wisdom, 

Sounding from the portal fair. 
Heed and listen! comes the mandate 

From a purer, fairer land; 
High above this world of sorrow, 

From thy loved — thy angel band. 






LESSONS. 57 



LESSONS. 



' Tongues in trees, books in the running brooks, sermons in stones, and 
good in everything." 



XL lesser streams are silenced 

In ocean's grander roar; 
The cataract majestic, 
Is sounding evermore. 

Nature's eternal anthem 

Leaves naught imsaid, unsung, 
Type of the mind immortal. 

Whose lyre the Godhead strung 

How like the wild sea's current, 
" Casting up mire and dirt," 

Are human souls, still struggling 
The evil to avert. 

To reach a higher standpoint, 
If heaven perchance be nigh, 

Or sinking in the vortex. 
Where fear and discord lie. 

But nature's plan is onward; 

The burdened soul descries, 
Beyond the umbrageous forest, 

The hills of promise rise ; 

Grander, because the valley 
Is nestling in between; 

Fairer, because all tangled 
The thickets intervene ; 



68 LESSONS. 

Clearer, for sparkling dew-drops, 
Like gems bedeck the way, 
( I Their scintillations blending 

With the peerless light of day. 

All nature reads a lesson 

To this thinking soul of mine, 

Truer than fabled stor}', 
More potent, more benign. 

The page alive and glowing ; 

Each word a spoken psalm ; 
Sent with the force of lightning, 

All error to disarm. 

Read thou that page, my brother, 
'Tis open round thy way ; 

All ample to thy vision, 
The golden sunlight's ray. 

Shall gild thy mind's researches, 
Trace out the hidden plan, 

And teach God's ways are easy 
To the delving soul of man. 

Then woman's mind so fitted, 
Life's mysteries to discern, 

Will poise with open vision, 
A higher truth to learn. 

'Tis laid on all your altars, 
This open book so fair; 

Scan well the page before you — 
Read thou the lesson there. 



LESSONS. 59 

Perchance a problem deeper, 

May stagger and amaze; 
But patience on the morrow, 

Dispels the mist and haze. 

While inspiration glowing, 

Still comes from worlds above, 
Where the Father's "many mansions" 

Are 'rayed with purer love, 




60^ . REVEILLE. 



REVEILLE, 



OR DRUM BEAT Al BREAK OF DAY. 



^0, the promised day is dawning, 

Long foretold by prophets old ! 
And the sign of truth and progress 

High above us is unrolled ; 
And the muffled tramp of millions, 

Arming for the coming fight. 
Throng the hill-side and the valle}^, 

With their armor burnished bright! 
Up, and doing! noble workers. 

In the cause of truth and right. 

On the breeze, from distant nations, 

Hear the bugle's stirring note, 
And the loud-mouth'd cannon, sounding 

Warning from its brazen throat! 
Every man must do his duty. 

Every Avoman wield a power ; 
Earth, from out the sleep of ages. 

Waits the great baptismal hour! 
0, be earnest, zealous, truthful. 

Ye who claim the higher dower! 

Read the lesson, tyrants; tremble! 

Long beneath your blighting sway 
God-like souls have toiled, and fainted 

With the burden of the day! 
See the martyrs crowned with glory. 

Bending from their higher spheres! 



REVEILLE. 61 

Courage, brothers, light is breaking! 

And the blinding weight of tears, 
Wrung from hearts oppressed and tortur'd, 

Renovates the coming years. 

Woman! patient, hopeful, trusting. 

Send your burning thoughts afar ; 
Truth's bright standard be your watchword. 

Justice high your guiding star; 
For your part the age is waiting — 

Harkning for the grander chime! 
Now it lacks the truer key-note, 

That shall make men's lives sublime! 
Mothers, daughters, wives, and sisters, 

Yours the greatest work of time. 

Up and doing! Souls are sleeping 

That but need your potent power, 
Rousing them to higher motives, 

Such as suit this fateful hour! 
Know thyself, and then thy duty 

Plain before thee will uprise ; 
Then the new and purer Era, 

Free from Error's dark disguise, 
Shall unfold before your vision, 

Spanning earth, and sea, and skies. 



62 frep:dom'.s promise. 



FREEDOM'S PROMISE. 



"Freedom's battle once begun, 
Bequeathed from bleeding sire to son, 
Though baffled oft, is ever won." 




E still, 0, anxious hearts! and. calmly wait 
The coming hour that tells a people" s fate. 

Curb the deep throbbings of your heaving breasts, 
0, lowly ones, who long have been oppressed! 

And ye, who stand upon the watchman's tower, 
And read the record of each passing hour, 

Nerve your brave hearts with a diviner glow, 
For aspiration like the ocean's flow. 

Is welling up from souls whose latent power 

Will brook nor metes nor bounds to Freedom's dower. 

0, subtle souls! whose boon it is to know 
By Reason's power and Inspiration's glow, 

The deeper current of this moving life, 

Whose every phase with higher thought is rife — 

Work nobly, earnestly, and proudly dare 
To urge the conquest of a realm so fair, 

Upon whose grander hights the coming man 
Shall walk triumphant to great Nature's plan-, 

No more the tool, the plaything of the hour, 
He stands a god, nor fears the tyrant's power! 

But ere that distant goal shall be attained. 
To basest ends the good will be profaned; 



FREEDOM'S PROMISE. 63 

While demagogues, in robes of ermine clad, 
Corrupt the nation, meek-eyed Justice, sad, 

With mournful gaze surveys the passing scene. 
Yet sees, beyond the mists that intervene, 

A radiant future, tinged with golden beams — 
A full-orbed Freedom, on whose summit teems 

The culmination of long-toiling years, 
Outwrought through agony, and blood, and tears. 

Roll back the curtain of the starry dome! 
Survey the grandeur of the spirit's home! 

''Let there be light!" the cheering strain prolong, 
And 0, ye nations! swell the magic song, 

Till earth's remotest mountain shall proclaim 
A people's birth-right is no idle name! 

Hurl Pope and Potentate from earthly throne — 
Justice and right shall circle every zone ; 

A higher Faith will cheer the coming age, 
Redeeming death, and bright'ning history's page. 

The maudlin priest, with creed and parchment old, 
No longer leads; truth is not bought and sold, 

But conies untrammeled from the spheres above, 
And draws the people by the power of love; 

It needs no organ peal, no steeples high. 
No mitred crown nor hypocritic sigh, 

But throws its holy spell o'er high and low. 
Embracing Nations in its hallowed glow. 



64 WOMANHOOD. 



WOMANHOOD. 



Written in Boston, in January, 1S68. 



'VENTS more important than any tliat have graced the thea- 
ter of American affairs are just befoi'e us, sounding the knell 
of a greater than African slavery; that which comes nearer 
this people and takes a stronger hold upon the institutions of the 
land; a slavery that is jjolluting every avenue of civilization and 
dragging humanity down to the level of animal life, without its 
natural and normal condition. It is none other than the degra- 
dation of xvoman, the mother of the race, the fair pillar of our 
republic, lying prostrate in the dust, shorn of her bright proportions 
and serving only as a stumbling block to bar the progress of the 
ages. 

Look abroad and behold her in all the departments of life; first, 
the fashionable lady, prostituting her God-given attributes upon the 
shrine of folly and show; then contrast with her the over-worked 
daughters of toil; then the poor, degraded child of crime and sensu- 
ality. But, it may be asked, are there no honorable women, wives, 
and mothers, over all the land, to redeem this fearful picture that 
hangs like a pall upon the walls of our American structure? Ah, 
'tis of these we would speak to-day ! Are they filling the true jalace 
designed by the great Architect of the universe ? Wives they are, 
'tis true; mothers they must be perforce, not often by their own free 
will, or what means the fearful crime that follows so closely on these 
relations ? for it is alarmingly prevalent in so-called married life, 
and not confined, by any means, to those outside of conventional 
marriage. 

This is the most vital question of the age. Womanhood is offered 
an unhallowed sacrifice to the demon, licentiousness, that is walking 
forth to-day, in all the panoply of power within Church and State, 
desolating shrines wliere innocence and purity dwell. It is a disease 
whose accumulating force has been the work of centuries; a leprosy 
before whose scathing influence humanity pauses, spell-bound and 
paralyzed. We say womanhood is sacrifice:l, because she is emphat- 
ically the victim; and the cause originated with the license of priest- 
hood, far back in the past. Mahometanism and Mormonism are 



WOMANHOOD. 65 

the hot-beds where swarm and fester the emanations of the hydra- 
headed monster whose magnetic radiations are permeating all nations 
and peoples. Silently but surely it takes hold on every department 
of human life. "Let us eat, drink, and be merry, for to-morrow 
we die," is the language of Christendom to-day, not to go abroad 
for multiplied proofs of this fearful malady. Woman, then, is the 
doomed and helpless instrument to transmit the curse to all gener- 
ations, through that w:hich was intended as the viost sacred and 
noble mission conferred upon the hufinan family. When will ye 
awake, oh, down-trodden daughters of humanity! to a truer appreci- 
ation of yourself — the leader, not the led ; the dictator and guardian 
of true motherhood, made sacred alone by its own inherent demands, 
based on natural laivs, governed by reason and intuition, those uner- 
ring guides to which all else must be subservient. 

Arise, then, oh, woman! and dare he free. Upon your decision 
must rest the fate of Empire. Man's aggressive and propelling 
spirit has wrought for you no flowery bed of ease; his protection 
has legislated you into imbecility, above whose vortex you are being 
launched into a whirlpool of despair and horror, where you must 
awake to the cries of your suffering ones, appealing to you at last 
for succor. 

And this comes by intrusting your God-given right and heritage 
to your brother, regardless of the mandate "Be true to thyself." 
Our nation has just passed through a bloody war, where your dear 
ones have been offered upon its altar. And what have you gained 
by the sacrifice ? Look around oh ! woman, and answer the question. 
Survey the two great political parties that are leading the nation on 
to anarchy. What are the principles won by your suffering and 
penance for others' sins ? Ask yourselves before God and your own 
womanhood, what are you doing for yourselves and your children. 
The same answer comes that has been heard from women in all the 
past: "We are looking for others to do our work; content to be 
subordinate, when God is speaking to you, through untold anguish, to 
intrust our work to no unskilled hands. Does your brother still 
offer protection ? Point him to your down-trodden sister, and bid 
him lift her up to woman's high estate; lead him into the dens of 
poverty, and ask him to throw his protecting arm around her there; 
accompany him within the marts of trade and comj)etition, and there 
see woman sacrificed and bleeding upon that unholy altar. Where 
has not woman been led, content, alas ! to follow out the programme 



66 WOMANHOOD. 

engendered "vvithin an ignorant and adulterous age, whose turbid 
and relentless waters are deluging this fair heritage of our fathers, 
upon whose parchment scroll stands, like mockery, the words, "All 
governments derive their just power from the consent of the gov- 
erned." 

"A greater than Daniel has come to judgment," and will be 
heard. Yes, above the clamor of party strife and the senseless cry 
of demagogues, is heard the "voice that spake as never man spake:" 
"Ye are weighed in the balance, and found wanting!" "Prepare 
ye, for the day of God's vengeance is at hand!" "Inasmuch as ye 
have done it unto these. My little ones, ye have done it unto Me! " 
"Behold, I am leading this nation through troublous times! the 
seed has been sown; wonder not at the fruit of the harvest time." 
"Do men gather grapes of thorns, or figs of thistles ? " These little 
ones whom ye despise, will, in turn, lead you forth, oh! "wicked 
and perverse generation." Already anointed are they for the work, 
and ye must give way. Blessed are they who have their lamps 
trimmed and burning to light up the nation's darkness ! On the 
scroll of after years will appear in characters of fire the history of 
to-day, written by the pen of inspiration, thrown backward over 
scenes -the mind shrinks now to contemplate. But fear not, ohf 
chosen ones, for the result; thy work will culminate there, and 
other times and other peoples will do thee homage. Be inspired to 
meet the demand that is calling thee with no gentle voice to the 
altar of sacrifice. Be calm, trusting and reliant. We know thy 
power and will guard tliy way, though it lead to the cannon's mouth 
or up the steeps of Calvary. 




MACEDONIA. 67 



MACEDONIA. 



"Come over and help us." — Bible. 



[ISTERS, 'tis the Nation's morning! 

Ye the heralds of the day, 
Sounding forth a double warning, 

Be not loiterers by the way. 

Man, thy brother, stands bewildered. 
Clutching at the veriest straw, 

Patching up the broken fragments, 
While above, the higher law 

Thunders forth the word portentous 
That shall make the nations quake, 

And restore your own dear birthright, 
Speaking out as man ne'er spake. 

Heralds ye of grander lessons 

Than the ancient world e'er learned; 

Ye, the lowly ones and fettered, 
By your stronger brother spurned. 

But the gem that is embedded 

Deepest in the miry clay. 
Brightest shines when resurrected — 

Polished till the diamond's ray 

Sends its radiations onward. 

Sparkling like a coronal 
Set upon the brow of beauty^ 

Glowing thoughts and words to tell. 



68 MACEDONIA. 

Man, thy brother, stands bewildered; 

Who, aU\s! shall break the spell? 
Who proclaim the mighty mandate. 

Arching heaven and spanning hell? 

Where the clarion voice, that, sounding, 
Shall reveal the dawning way? 

Who the mighty one entrusted 
To restore God's holy sway? 

Woman, thou, the chosen vessel. 

Yours the hand must grasp the helm ; 

Hear ye not the sounding breakers. 
Fear ye yet, the flood to stem? 

From the higher realms of silence, 
Arching worlds of space and time, 

Comes the key-note, forged in anger. 
Pealing forth from power sublime. 

Waken, then; your noble mission. 
Doubly earned by sighs and tears. 

Wafts thy soul to full fruition, 
Reaching out and quelling fears. 

Onward from the darker ages. 
Used for manhood's baser part. 

Crucified upon the altar 

Of thy brother's craven heart, 

Thou hast borne thy burdens meekly. 
While the asp's sting pierced thy breast, 

Granting all thy brother asked for. 
Bowing to his stern behest, 



MACEDONIA, 69 

Till the race bore fearful impress 

Of the galling chains ye wore, 
Manacled in mind and purpose, ' 

Hearts perverted, reason lower 

Than the passions holding pastime 

O'er the God-like soul within, 
Chaining all the nobler instincts 

With an iron band of sin. 

Thou, the mother, God's own artist, 

In whose hand the chisel rare 
Is entrusted, for producing 

Beings worthy of thy care. 

Man, thy brother, is bewildered 

O'er the yawning chasm vast; 
Have thy lamps all trimmed and burning 

Hear ye not the trumpet blast? 

Lo the bridegroom comes ; be ready ; 

Go ye forth with power to-day. 
Grasp the weapons angels bring thee, 

Walking forth on God's highway. 

Fairer than a risen Jesus 

Comes the sun of truth to you 
Herald of the power that woman 

In her risen strength may do. 



70 WOMAN. 



WOMAN. 



"Speak to the daughters of my people." 




OMAN, standing by the jDortal 

Of a newer, purer life, 
Grander far than all preceding, 

With a world's wide pur|)ose rife; 

Weaving thoughts that strain and quicken, 

Soaring forth to realms afar, 
Tracing out the hidden meaning 

Of each brightly beaming star; 

Sounding depths by man unfathomed, 
Reaching where the angels tread, 

Where the olden seers and prophets 
Have by fast and prayer been led; 

Waking strains that lead the ages, 

Striking chords that sweep the heart. 

Pointing to a bright elysium, 
Where ye, too, shall bear a part. 

God's own children, sorely fettered. 

Wake to higher, nobler life; 
Break the bonds that long have bound thee, 

Rise above the sordid strife; 

Gods are with thee; angels hasten 

To unbar the pearly gate, 
Letting in a flood of sunshine, 

O'er the turbid sea of hate. 



WOMAN. 71 



In the nation's resurrection, 

Yoiir's the greatest, noblest part, 

Leading up your sons and brothers, 
With a brave, heroic heart. 



By the pangs ye, too, have suffered, 
Grird your bosom and be strong, 

For the sullen shocks of battle 
To these stirring times belong. 

Blood must flow before redemption 
Bathes thee with her clearer light; 

Earth-bound souls are still in prison, 
Groaning through the sultry night. 

Thine the hand, linked with thy brother, 
That must ^' roll the stone away " 

From the tomb of bygone ages, 
Where the ghosts of error lay. 

Heed the mandate! Wisdom calls thee; 

Clear her voice is — as the morn, 
And the savior of the people 

Ever is of woman horn. 




72 PROGRESS. 



PROGRESS. 




ORNINGr dawns in mystic grandeur- 
Mother earth with beauty teems; 
Hoary mists of superstition 

Melt before the genial beams ; 
While the car of day mounts upward, 
Glowing, sparkling on her course ; 
Winning by her gentle influence — 
Her's no triumph born of force. 

Hope, with proud exultant pinion, 

Like a rainbow spans the way, 
Scattering radiant scintillations 

As the fountain's jetting spray. 
Lo ! the promise of the ages, 

Made to man, now dawns apace, 
Harbinger of th' umpire. Reason — 

Rise and give the stranger place! 

Principles sublime and mighty. 

Are evolved in ambient air; 
All the atmosphere is radiant — 

For the truth now do and dare! 
This the age demanding action! 

Gird your armor firmly on! 
Noble workers, heaven-directed. 

Human prejudice is strong. 

Toiling with a holy purpose, 
When the early morn appears, 

Glorious shall be the noon-day 
Of the swift revolving years. 



PROGRESS. JS 

Errors old must be combated, 

Priest and people shall advance, 
Musty parchments cannot longer 

Chain the mind in ignorance. 

For the present time is brilliant 

With the promise of the age ; 
They who run may read the lesson ; 

Bravely turn each glowing page. 
And the goal is human freedom! 

Who shall dare the race impede ? 
'Tis your birthright, man and woman! 

Bow to neither sect nor creed! 




74 LOVE. 



LOVE. 



'0 hand of mother, on me laid, 

Hath sanctified this holy name 
Nor offering on earth's altars made, 

Can bring the meed the soul would claim. 

But grander than the heights above, 
And deeper than the depths below, 

Far stronger than the northern blast 
Sweeping abo^e the arctic snow, 

Comes the full anthem from a heart 

Whose chords no master-hand hath swept. 

But smouldering fires hath burned, until, 
With strong convulsions, nature wept. 

Then from the vortex of despair 

Gleamed forth the souls diviner wealth. 

And far above a world of scorn, 

Looked deep within, and found itself. 

For truth no sordid mind may grasp 

Is undulating far and free. 
Embracing ties the world disowns, 

Probing the ages yet to be. 

The ages o'er whose trembling verge 
The great Archangel's trumpet-sound 

Shall echo 'mid your vales and hills. 
Breaking the silence so profound. 



LOVE. 75 

The silence of the suffering heart, 

Made eloquent by keen despair, 
Until it rends the bridge of might 

And beards the lion in his lair. 

0, woman love! in after years, 

When scourging hand hath set ye free, 

The offering of thy earthly life, 

Shall double power and purpose be, 

To gird thy soul for grander ends, 

Than e'en thy wildest dreams hath known; 

Then let thy birthright stand revealed 
'Till woman's mission be up thrown. 

For on the placid sea of Love, 

Outreaching from thine own brave soul 
A current flows to bear thee on, 

Toward a grander, loftier goal. 

Then take the meed by suffering won. 

The guerdon of a grateful heart, 
A deeper incense still is thine 

And woman's hand must still impart. 

For w^ore than all the wealth of earth. 

And sordid aims that men pursue. 
Is the great sum of human Love 

In all its avenues made true. 



JUSTICE. 



JUSTICE. 




^REAT truths, like buniing stars, flash forth at 
night, 
'^ Piercing the darkness, heralding the light; 
When dawning day reveals to mortal ken 
The hidden glories, long concealed from men. 
G-reat truths are born 'mid conflict and desjDair; 
They leap to light from sorrow's fruitful lair; 
Flashing like meteors, radiant, bright, serene, 
Spanning the darkness like the morning's beam. 
They come in whirlwinds, 'mid the tempest strife, 
And galvanize dead natures into life; 
Advance the progress of the lagging years ; 
Baptize the heart anew, through burning tears; 
Electrify the inner and divine, 
Purging the grossness of the common mind. 
Advance then, woman; know thy birth-right sure, 
The great of earth, are those who most endure; 
No laggard she, whose mind and heart may scan 
The opening vista of this age of man. 
How grand the shadows lift the soul above ; 
How bright the radiance of diviner love ; 
How still and deep the inner current leads, 
Searching the problem of the soul's great needs; 
Bidding us seek alway diviner guide, 
For holy angels walk our steps beside 
Their ministry for good, 0! let us heed; 
Leaving their impress on each daily deed ; 
For not in vain such counselors are given — 
They bring a foretaste of the bliss of heaven. 
A warning voice is whispered in our ear. 



JUSTICE. 

Like strains of music, on the evening clear 

Anon, in peril's hour, a clasping hand 

Is leading upward to a calmer land — 

A clime all free from error, grief or care, 

For Truth stands forth, guarding the portal fair. 

Then make thy mind. Oh! pilgrim on life's sea, 

A fitting temple of the great To Be. 

A grander chord of human thought must swell, 

To pierce the darkness of the bigot's hell, 

Dispelling ignorance, despair and hate, ' 

Alas! the legacy of cruel fate. 

Bequeathed by ages, o'er whose tomb of years. 

The soul sits brooding, full of doubts and fears, 

Still learns amid the lessons of the hour. 

The deeper eloquence of might and power ; 

The power of love, that bright, effulgent ray — 

How dwarfed the soul that answers not its sway ; 

How dark and stunted seem all else, beside 

The glowing beauty of great nature's bride; 

The permeating, searching power that blends 

Her swaying elements for grander ends. 

Stand forth, 0, Truth! despite the frown or sneer, 

Here build thy temple in the opening year; 

Scourging from out the altar's sacred fane 

All desecrations from unholy gain ; 

All baser passions, hoary with old time. 

Pregnant with echoes of medieval chime, 

We here invoke thee; waiting hearts lay bare, 

Inscribe thy lessons on the tablet fair. 

Anew we consecrate our life to thee. 

Oh, goddess of the future, pure and free; 

Thou guide divine, of souls baptized by fire, 

Until they wake the spirits' holier lyre 



78 JUSTICE. 

With answering strains made eloquent and strong 

By burning contact with the monster Wrong. 

Here, like a child, we seek again the knee. 

To lisp our accents, and be taught of thee. 

We feel thy power — thy higher, nobler sway 

Confront our errors and our fears allay. 

We tread the confines of a better land. 

And feel the pressure of a guiding hand. 

0, Truth sublime! thy presence we implore; 

Thy shield invoke ; our waiting hearts full sore 

Are bowed in silence; open thou the door 

And let the radiance of diviner love 

Descend and lift us to thy courts above. 

That we may tread thy mansions pure and free, 

And breathe the perfume of the great To Be. 




TRUST. 79 



TRUST. 




AKK lowers the cloud! oh, human heart! 

Still bleeding and despairing? 
Then let me rend the veil apart, 
Thy deepest sorrows sharing. 

The past, a dark, sad picture weaves, 
To eyes all moist with weeping. 

The future, under love's bright leaves, 
Is purely, sweetly sleeping. 

In memory's heritage of tears 

The meadow-land is flowing, 
The hill of life at last appears 

To have another showing. 

A greater lesson comes to-day. 

Born of the tempest's raging; 
More true and lasting is its sway — 

A nobler life presaging. 

Shrink not to scan the picture well, 

Though pain in retrospection 
Shall cause the chords of life to swell 

Beneath the deep inspection. 

No faltering step has e'er been lost, 

But nobly, wisely taken. 
Though sharp and strong the pang it cost, 

With reason almost shaken, 

But poised above the sullen roar 

Of error, seething, swelling. 
The troubled heart, though sad and sore, 

Has reached a purer dwelling. 



so TRUST. 

All bright above the tempest's strife, 
In calmer trust reposing — 

A heritage well-earned, a life 
To grander ends emerging. 

A broader sweep of destiny 
Beams now above, displaying 

The true and wave-like symphony 
That higher love is swaying. 

All eager climb the mountain height 
Of sterling, wise endeavor; 

The beacon now is pointing bright. 
Despite the wind or weather. 

The guiding hand is thine; accej^t. 
For at the threshold waiting. 

An angel in the heart hath kept 
Thy earliest thoughts debating. 

The aspirations of the child, 
All garnered and protected, 

Assume a power more firm and mild 
That still is heaven directed. 

Life's mission then, will be more plain 

Unto thy comprehension, 
When thou dost learn it is in vain 

The Father's plan to question. 

But trusting^ yield thy better self. 
Heeding thine own impression ; 

And let thy deep soul's glowing wealth 
Become the world's possession. 



COMPENSATION. 81 



COMPENSATION. 



lUMMER, in the lap of Autumn 

Pours her rich and golden store ; 
Bursting buds proclaim the Spring-time; 

When the Winter storm is o'er; 
So upon life's toilsome journey, 

Like the circling round of years; 
We may trace the deep emotions 

Moving us to smiles and tears. 

Yet again might Spring-time gladden, 

Did we keep the fountain clear, 
And with high resolves, determine, 

Only by the right to steer ; 
Moving thoughtfully, serenely, 

Like the onward march of Time, 
Noble deeds may be accomplished, 

And a destiny sublime. 

Grandly Nature tells her story, 

As the seasons glide along. 
Full of symbols, hints and warnings, 

That to every age belong ; 
Her's a quaint and ponderous volume, 

Every page is lettered o'er; 
Such as this, need no revising — 

Earnestly its truth explore.- 

Reap the harvest of the future; 

Rich experience will be there, 
If within life's early Spring-time, 

Thou hast sown the seeds with care, 



82 COMPENSATION. 

Golden sheaves of thought and feeling, 
Well adorn the Autumn years ; 

Noble acts, and deeds of mercy, 
When the wintry gloom appears. 

Note the emblems of the morning, 

Scan the lessons of the day; 
When the twilight hour is dawning. 

Thoughtfully review the way; 
Let the night's deep inspiration, 

Eloquent with heavenly light. 
Nerve thee — guard thy every action — 

Keep thy spirit's armor bright! 




RETROSPECTION. 83 



RETROSPECTION. 



Suggested while writing to Mrs. F. G. McDottgal 



^NOW ye, my friend, within the radiance 
Of calmer hope I rest, 

Though surges from the waves of long ago 
Are beating 'gainst my breast. 
How wildly o'er the spirit comes anon 

Deep memories of the past. 
That present hours, though hallowed and blest 

With somber shades are cast. 
How in the solitude visions intrude 

Darkly athwart the day, 
That ghosts of other years stalk wildly in, 

Holding the will at bay. 
While children's voices mingle with the strains, 

The chimes that wake and start. 
The echo of whose footsteps come and go, 

Across the busy mart. 
The Summer bloom waned strangely o'er a path 

Held by an unseen band. 
Till Autumn's mellow fruit, in sunny hours, 

Lay tempting to the hand. 
Winter, the crowned monarch of the year, 

Held vigils o'er the way, 
While Spring, with bounding footstep, comes again. 

With bud and leaf and spray. 
Musing, I ask, while seasons come and go. 

What mean the tone they bring ? 
And why, along the twilight of the years 

We scent the breath of Spring ? 



RETROSPECTION. 

Why buds, that withered in the "long ago," 

Should wake to life again, 
With bells of memory, soft, and sweet, and low, 

Chiming a sad refrain ? 

I ask, and answer comes laden with trust, 
Life's truest lessons, like the costly flower, 

Spring ever from the dust. 
And wanton feet, that rudely crushed the buds 

Of early hope and faith, 
Find when the seasons wane with bitter blast, 

How cruel mem'ries scathe. 
See how the morning hues were tinged and blurr'd 

With discord, born of greed, 
Forgetting, in the rush for wealth and fame. 

The deeper soul's true meed. 
So buried treasures leap to life again. 

Touched by a potent power 
And lo! the spirit of the bud and leaf 

Burst into fruit and flower. 



THE INNER LIFE. 85 



THE INNER LIFE. 



WALK a land of beauty; beyond the jarring 
whirl, 

I see a band of angels their banners bright unfurl ; 
I almost hear their footsteps press closely to my side; 
Their voices die in music, above the rolling tide — 
The tide of earthly being, that laves this lower strand, 
And surges o'er our human hearts with purpose high 

and grand, 
Relentless in its seeming, yet bouyant in its power. 
It brings the meed of recompense to gild each passing 

hour. 

Again I walk in shadows fraught with some mystic 

power. 
Athwart the dim horizon life's solemn fate-clouds 

lower; 
The angel voice is silent, my courage almost gone, 
My bark before the raging blast in fury dasheth on. 
Before my mental vision the dusty wayside teems 
With struggling, toiling millions, whose hopes are only 

dreams. 
I feel the heartful yearnings, the deep desponding tone. 
That Cometh from those sinking souls, on life's rough 

billows thrown. 

Again 'mid scenes of beauty, I rove with Angel guides; 
The calm is o'er my spirit thrown, no earthly care 

divides. 
0, wonder of our being! 0, mystery none may know! 
Whose future is the ages, whose past is long ago, 



86 THE INNER LIFH 

Whose symbol is the ocean, the mountain top serene — 
The grandeur of the forest, the valle}' thrown between, 
The majestic rolling river, the bright and flowery lea, 
The lake in placid beauty, the calm and tranquil sea. 

All these are emblems truly of the wayward heart of 

man, 
As he struggles upward blindly, yet ever in the van. 
Now proud ambition lures him, now faith serenely 

guides ; 
Anon, his nobler nature is surging like the tides; 
Then lowly in the valley his spirit seems to lie, 
Until we start in terror, to his sharp desponding cry. 
But on, forever onward, toward the higher goal. 
Sweeps the never ending current — 'Tis Man's Immortal 

Soul. 




HOMESTEAD VOICES. 87 



HOMESTEAD VOICES. 



The Author arrived in California in 1851; revisited her Eastern home 

in 1868. 




lAUGHTER, come home!" a mother's heart is 
yearning, 
^ And reaching forth its tendrils o'er the sea: 
''A life-long wanderer! when will thy returning 

Bring back the hopes we felt go forth with thee ? 
Long years have come and gone, since the sad morning 

We saw bright visions luring thee away, 
And feared that thou, alas! our home love scorning, 
Would'st droop and falter over life's rough way." 

"Daughter, come home!" fond eyes to thee are turning — 

A father's thoughts dwell on thy lonely wa}^; 
He asks — with heaving sighs his heart is burning — 

Upon that distant shore, 0, why delay? 
We know the dreams that called thee hence are ended. 

That sorrow on thy heart has cast its blight; 
But inner strength with suffering i« blended, 

And now for thee there dawns a purer light. 

" Sister, come home!" a plaintiff voice is calling. 

From one who trod w^ith us life's early way. 
When all was gay, and rays of joy were falling 

Around like flakes of snow on wintry day. 
" 0, sister dear! my eyes are sad with weeping; 

Before my vision stands the vacant chair; 
A brother's* form, in coffined vestments sleeping. 

Was borne in sorrow to our threshold fair." 



*A brother who died in the naval hospital in New Orleans, Sept., 1864. 



88 HOMESTEAD VOICES. 

'•'Sister, come home'.'" a brother, too, is pleading, 

In manly tones, 0, heed our earnest prayer! 
Too long ye stay, on buried hopes still feeding; 

Our childhood's haunts are green, and bright and fair 
'Tis true you'll miss some dear, familiar faces. 

And Time has left his impress all around ; 
But roses bloom in "old remembered places," 

And childish playthings still bedeck the ground. 

"Mother, 0, come!" a daughter's tones are blending 

With sisters, friends, and kinsmen far away; 
"Arise! and back thy homeward path still wending. 

Recall the vision of the dawning da3^" 
A spirit sister speaks! 0, pause and listen! 

"You'll visit once again the scenes of yore! 
And while upon your lids the tear-drops glisten, 

You'll rigJitly con life's riddle sadly o'er." 







HOMEWARD 89 

HOMEWARD. 



A reply to "Homestead Voices." San Francisco, May 1, 1S68. 




OTHER, I come! thy wandering child 

Would gaze once more upon thy face, 
Though time has left its impress there. 

And quenched the light of youthful grace 
That shone in earlier, happier years, 

Ere sorrow on thy lot was cast. 
And footsteps crossed home's threshold o'er. 
Leaving an echo as they passed. 

Father, I come! the years agone 

Have left deep traces on thy brow, 
While fancy, busy with the past. 

Is conjuring up the future now — 
The future, o'er whose untried way 

We walk with cautious steps and slow, 
When life's experiences have filled 

The past with bitterness and woe. 

Sister, I would an offering bring. 

Full of the lessons of the hour, j 

To span the void that death hath made, 

And build a bright, a living tower. 
Linked by a chain whose shining bands 

Knows no corroding touch of time — 
That reaches to immortal heights. 

And verges on a hope sublime. 

Then grieve no more for one whose form 

Is sleeping 'neath Pacific's wave; 
She is not there ! the immortal part 

Hath rose triumphant o'er the grave. 



90 HOMEWARD. 

Xor, mother, mourn thy darling son, 
Who laid his earthly armor Ij}^, 

Beside a far-off southern shore, 

When waves of conflict raged so high. 

They are not gone, but with us still, 

Xo empty place is at our board ; 
And tears of sorrow ill befit 

Hearts Avith such living manna stored. 
Weep for earth's sufferers ever3^wherc, 

If weep ye must, but not for them! 
Tlieij walk the bright, immortal shore — 

These still Time's chilling billows stem. 

And more than all, I bring a boon, 

Born 'mid dark conflict's sternestpower; 
Its shield has been a living force 

To guide my steps through sorrow's hour. 
'Tis Inspiration's holy light, 

That comes from higher, brighter spheres- 
Exultant lifts the soul above, 

And wipes away all earthly tears. 






OFF ACAPULCO. 91 



OFF ACAPULCO. 



steamship "Golden Age," May 21, 1868. 



(TANDING on Time's towering headlands. 
Looking forth toward the sea. 
Tell us, bold explorer, frankly 

What thy fertile thoughts may be. 

Reach tney on to spheres untrodden, 
In the swiftly coming years ? 

Yerge they to a hope immortal, 
Or obscured by misty tears?. 

Bears the past thy feelings onward ? 

Lures the future to betray? 
Tell us truly, are ye musing, 

Idly wasting out life's day? 

''Life is earnest," watch the current, 
Catch the gently whispering breeze, 

Trim thy sails with earnest purpose. 
Boldly steer o'er untried seas. 

Ever onward be thy motto, 

Storing knowledge on the way, 

Hope's elastic current bear thee 
To a brighter, happier day; 

Till ye view the silver lining, 

Tinging bright thy earthly cloud. 

Once enwrapping life's great duty, 
With the semblance of a shroud ; 



92 



OFF ACAPULCO 



Till ye view, with soul enraptured. 
Rights that mortal never trod. 

Looming forth with power and grandeur, 
In the mystic realm of God. 




GREETING TO MAINE. 93 

CmEETING TO MAINE. 




Written while sailing through Penobscot Bay, June 10, 1868. 

Y native State; thy bounding sea 
Is nature's offering unto thee! 
The rocks that gird thy rugged shore 
Are written deep with mystic lore ; 
Thy lengthning coast and sunny isles 
Are luring with their many wiles 
Thy wandering child to seek thy breast 
And claim again the needful rest; 
For years of toil and feverish pain, 
That leave their traces on the brain, 
Benumbing oft with scathing power 
The inspiration of the hour 
That, come a. messenger of love 
To lift the groveling thoughts above. 

Penobscot Bay! thy restless waves. 
Reminder of thy children's graves 
In other lands, and severed wide 
Where rolls old ocean's ruthless tide. 
Revealing through these blinding tears, 
The hopes and dreams of other years. 
Here on this floating deck I stand, 
Raising by memory's magic wand 
The shadowy past, and laying bare 
The joys and sorrows written there. 
I come again for strength and power 
To aid me, in this earnest hour ; 
To consecrate the heart anew 
For the great work I see to do. 



94 GREETING TO MAINE. 

Thy granite liills arc firm and strong; 

Inspired by these to grapple wrong, 

In God's own might the sword is drawn 

For generations yet unborn. 

Thy waving pine-tree's fragrant breath, 

Bright harbingers of life, not death, 

Are speaking wivth a living voice, 

To elevate and to rejoice 

The hearts of those, where error blind 

Doth cripple all the powers of mind. 

I come again, thy wayward child, 

To read thy history wierd and wild. 

Where Winter with his sternest power 

Stalks wildly forth, through field and bower, 

Laying his hand with withering might 

On Summer's golden treasures bright; 

Stern emblem of the blighting power 

That desolates the festive hour. 

I bring experience rich and rare, 
Enwrapping with a mantle fair 
The present dim, uncertain way. 
And lighting up with hopes bright ray 
The coming day, whose eastern beams 
Are faintly shadowed forth in gleams 
Of higher thought and nobler aim, 
That seeks no answering voice: Fame! 
But is content that future time 
Adown the ages, shall consign 
To earnest souls, the meed that's due, 
Regardless of the lioiv or who^ 
For compensation's law is true, 
Extending all creation through. 



GREETING TO MAINE, 



95 



The lowliest child that seeks thy soil 
Can gain a recompense by toil — 
Toil of the heart, or hand or brain. 
These are the thoughts I bring, Maine! 

And lay this offering at thy feet. 

Where Ocean's restless billows meet. 

Accept the tribute of my la}^ : 

A grateful heart, I bring to-day ; 

The legacy of childhood's years 

Is brightly seen through falling tears — 

A soul to scan J a heart to grieve^ 

A will to pity and relieve^ ' 

A loyal love for truth and rights 

Deep hatred of the tyrants might. 

I pledge my fealty, through tears, 

Beside the shrine of early years, 

And nerve my heart, with strength and power 

For the great future's trial hour. 




96 REVISITED. 



REVISITED. 



Written on the shore of Penobscot Bay, June 1869. 



"Hast thou come with the heart of thy childhood back, 

The free, the pure, the kind ? 
So murmured the trees in my homeward track, 

As they played to the mountain wind." 

— Mrs. Hemans 

Long years agone, a thouglitful child, I stood 

Beside the restless, ever-changing sea. 
Gazing afar ; and by some wondrous power, 

The future, in that dreamy mood. 

Was sho\vn to me. 



'^HE haze that floated over the coming years was lifted, reveal- 
ing the grief, the turmoil, the changing scenes, which memory 
now calls up from the dim cloisters of the shadowy past. 
But then 'twas summoned forth by some weird, mystic spell, that 
riveted the senses, chaining them as by magic, to the sorcery of the 
hour. 

The wild panorama of Ocean, as restless as the heart that 
beat in the bosom of the wayward, undisciplined child, was heaving 
and surging forward, then breaking in bright Waves along the 
pebbly beach. 

Then fancies, like wandering ghosts, thronged quick and fast 
before the enraptured vision, while nature, in that prophetic hour, 
was questioned and importuned to reveal the end and aim of human 
hopes and aspirations. 

The bland, soft breath of June, redolent with flow^ers and lumi- 
nous with sunshine, floated around, wafting fragrance to the senses, 
imbued alike with past and futui'c themes. 

The woman soul was wakening to the music of coming years; 
now harsh and discordant — anon, fully teeming with the hopes that 
lend their stimuli to the struggling soul. How deep the question, 
as eagerly the thoughts went searching for an answer to the mind's 
strong, yearning tone. What is the end and aim of ail this mighty 
plan ? Hour after hour went unheeded by, and still the deep problem 
of life remained unsolved, while the ocean sang its sublime anthem, as 
it had in all the ages, yet tenderly encircling a green isle, which, 



EEVISITED. 97 

like an oasis in the desert of a barren life, reposed amid the waste 
of waters. 

Since then, eventful years, mirrored forth by the waves of that 
restless sea, have left their impress upon the childish brow reflected 
there on that bright Summer day. Still, the question asked again, 
'mid other scenes, beneath stranger skies, remains unanswered. 
And oft the weary head, hot with the world's feverish breath, has 
longed to seek the solitude of that hour, and wandering back beyond 
the dark vista of life's bewildering shams, repose once more in the 
innocence of childhood's idle dreams. 

But when the boon again was given to seek the haunts of early 
years, how changed the sylvan scene ! The waves were sounding 
still, but how reproachfully their chorus fell upon the listening ear ! 
Then the future was again invoked, but the dark, relentless past 
pushed sternly in, demanding with imperious tone a trophy worthy 
of the lessons given in childhood's thoughtful moods. Then the 
blotted page that memory offered to the soul's vision was scanned 
anew. Hand in hand with vanished hours, were trod the old 
familiar paths, trying to recall the glowing fancies that gave wings 
to the fleeting Summer days. Ah ! where are now the buoyant 
hopes that gilded all with rainbow hues of promise? Then the 
answer came, faint and scarcely articulate: "Not dead, but sleep- 
ing." From out these old retreats a murmur, like the "voice of 
many waters," sounded in the ear, "From this meridian hight 
survey fearlessly the warnings of the past, and by them learn the 
lesson of the hour. Begin anew thy journey and thy life; let the 
mistakes and errors of early undisciplined years, serve as guides 
for the coming day; seek not to look too eagerly into that which is 
to be, but let no present duty go undone; awake the enthusiasm of 
the youthful heart, sanctified by the sorrow of the past and be 
prepared for all the future may demand." 

Wood, field, and ocean, spread before the vision, waved assent to 
the deep import of these solemn words, as, turning into the old 
familiar path, weary feet retraced the homeward way. But the old 
question asked by the child-heart, and the problem all unanswered 
and unsolved, still beckoned on toward the unknown and undiscov- 
ered that is ever beyond. The setting sun, throwing his rays 
athwart the path, reflecting shadows of rock and tree, cast a mild, 
soft radiance on all around, quieting the turbulent beating of a sor- 
rowing heart. Thus I passed again from my childhood haunts, 
with heart softened and subdued by the influence of the scene, and 
better prepared to grapple with the stern role of fate. 



98 THE INDIAN'S WARNING. 



THE INDIAN'S WARNING. 



"the AMERICAN INDIAN AS HE WAS, AND AS HE IS. 



'EW ENGLAND! on thy wave-washed shore 

I sit and list the billow's roar, 

As on the pinions of the past, 
Wild thoughts are hieing with the blast. 
I hear the tides of long ago 
Surge onward with a steady flow, 
Bearing the sturdy years away 
To open up a brighter day. 

I see the past; oh, who shall dare 
Unfold the scroll that's written there? 
And to this generation read 
The record of each bloody deed? 
The red man's hope, the red man's pride 
Is graven on this flowing tide ; 
And as the swiftly urged canoe 
Shall come the lesson unto you: 

These are our lands; we've passed away, 
Yet still we speak to you to-day. 
And through the daughters of your land. 
Will renovate and guard the strand. 
We come, without a whoop or sound. 
From the great Spirit's hunting-ground, 
To touch your hearts with living fire 
And bid your spirits come up higher. 

The future we dare not unfold, 

Your hearts would tremble to behold; 

For retribution's sullen tide 



THE INDIAN'S WARNING. 99 

Must surge above your towering pride, 
Before you learn the power and might 
That follows in the wake of Right, 
The Indian's vengeance still is here, 
We come in love and know no fear. 

We come with arrows keen and bright; 
Precursor to a stormy night. 
Before the mists are cleared away 
That usher in the new-born day. 
Your sachems fan their council-fire 
With hate and wrath and burning ire, 
And do not heed the still, small voice 
That bids a people's heart rejoice. 

The Indian's vengeance does not sleep; 
It towers above yon rocky steep, 
It cleaves the bosom of your bay, 
And shoots athwart the sun's bright ray. 
It is a vengeance deep and long! 
Heed it ye weak; tremble, ye strong! 
For, like the arrow swiftly sped. 
Its aim is poised to heart and head. 

Your wigwams raise, your watch-fires build, 

Your flocks are here, your lands are tilled, 

Your big canoes are swift and strong. 

But freighted deep with greed and wrong. 

An altar build, and incense burn 

To heaven, from out a living urn. 

Till higher truth shall lead you forth 

To battle 'gainst the wrongs of earth. 

The Indian's spirit comes to save. 

For red man's heart is " strong and brave." 



100 IMPROMPTU. 



IMPROMPTU. 



To a Friend, who asked for a Poem, San Francisco, 1866. 



iGAIN you ask a poem, 1113^ friend, 
You seem to think 
We've naught to do but take our peii 
And dip it in the ink. 
You do not know, the poet's heaven 

Is far and hard to gain, 
And that the journey thither 
Is fraught with grief and pain. 

That blinding waves of discord, 

Are surging round our wa}^, 
While dark'ning gorge and battlement 

Shut out the sun's bright ray. 
That oft on slippery pathway. 

And narrow shelving rock. 
We pause, to see the lightning play 

And list the thunder shock. 

Yet, do not deem our progress 

Is ever dark and wild, 
For flowers are springing in our path 

To lure us, as a child. 
And radiant landscape, clear and bright- 

With gently murmuring rill 
Are winding through green meadows 

Beyond the sloping hill. 

And so, dear friend, we promise 

In days that are before 
To write for you a poem, when 



IMPROMPTU. 101 



Our early dreams are o'er. 
And the eager, rambling ideals 

That marked our reckless youth, 
Will yield to smoother measure, 

And sing of grander truth. 

Till then, adieu! and know, 0, friend, 

That all cannot be Poets, 
Whose thouofhts in metre blend. 




102 INSCRIBED TO MY DEAR SISTER. 



INSCRIBED TO MY DEAR SISTER. 



Mrs. L. a. Snowe, of Rockland, Maine, December 12th, 1S68. 



AM alone amid the Avaves of life's ocean; and fancies intrude 
themselves ujDon one's solitude, not always pleasant nor 

"^ profitable. I am thinking of the novelty of my position 
to-day, and trying to solve the role of fate. 

You, my sister, are surrounded by your little ones. O, cherish 
and protect them now, for there may come to you, too, perchance, 
a day Avhen your household gods may be sundered and apart, and 
you jDOwerless to avert. So to-night I sit by a lonely hearth, and 
my thoughts wander over continents and oceans, 1)y quiet firesides, 
as well as other places not so quiet nor so pleasant to contemplate. 

I see you all, mother, father, brothers, sisters, friends, and last, 
not least, children — all are thronging before my vision, commanding 
attention I cannot withhold. How I would like to see you and 
talk over all things pertaining to the great movement that has been 
the day-star of our lives — yours and mine, my sister — for the heri- 
tage of a broader freedom was born to us, and nurtured among our 
native hills, rugged and homely as their outlines presented to our 
young lives, type of that wilderness that shall yet "bud and blos- 
som as the rose." 

Let us be thankful for the inspiration that came to us there, we, 
the presci'ibed and fettered half of a great humanity, whose destiny 
the plummet of the far future must sound in all its depth, for great 
possibilities are not attained in years, nor even centuries. Take 
courage, then, O, strong and noble heart ! in your comparatively 
narrow sphere you are doing more than you have the least concep- 
tion of. I can feel the inspiration of your soul to-night rebuking 
me for my inertness, when so much is demanded of woman — women 
who know their rights, and knowing, dare maintain. 

Do not fear for me; full soon I shall be pushed forth upon the arena 
of an active destiny, whose tide will bear me on, perhaps relent- 
lessly, to other deep and painful experiences. Then let me rest 
awhile by the wayside to gather strength for the contest, for already 



INSCRIBED TO MY DEAR SISTER. 103 

the forces are niarshalling themselves, and the clangor of the 
trumpet is sounding from anear and far. 

Not long will the noon-tide hour last; to me it has brought a 
season of rest and refreshment, and has poised my heart and mind 
for that which is just before; so near that its advancing wave is 
already laving my feet, and I feel the quick tide of a diviner inspi- 
ration which is shortly to deluge the land, bringing both pain and 
pleasure, for the twin sisters walk forth hand in hand, blending the 
elements of their being for the regeneration of earth's children. 

We must accept the one if we would enjoy the other; 'tis the 
legacy of our humanity, and constantly commands us up higher. Let 
us advance then most fearlessly; for beyond the briers and brambles 
of our earth path lie the clear waters of spirituality, blending with 
the evergreen glades of our better humanity. 

So, my sister, I would have you feel the importance, and true 
import, of a nature such as thine. No common destiny is in reserve 
for thee; a little while, and the place that knows thee now will 
know thee there no more. Other and far different scenes will invite 
you, and you, too, will feel the world's inspiration calling you forth. 

Lay, then, to-day the foundation, broad, compact, and perma- 
ment, and you will have to take no backward step. 




104 BIRTH OF ASTREA. 



BIRTH OF ASTREA. 



NOVEMBER 7, ISSl. 



From the Spirit of I^Iiis. F. G. McDougal, through Mrs. R. H. Wilson. 



' For the godlike of the human, 
Is incarnate now in woman." 

— Mks. McDougal. 



'^HIS night to us is born a child, 
On whom the sages must have smiled, 
So full is she of mystic lore. 

Which clearei' is than aught before. 

Astrea, my child, I see thee now 
With martyr's wreath upon thy brow, 
In garments robed of purest white, 
A mission hast, my heart's delight! 

Thy duty then, my child, fulfill. 
That sage's smile may cheer thee still — 
Wake energies of woman's mind. 
Give added force, her place to find. 

Unseal the eyes of brother man. 
That he may learn that nature's plan 
Is woman free, through unseen power 
That surges nearer, hour by hour. 

It reaches all; the tide rolls in ; 
AVith inspired word, the voyage begin, 
Progression's flag shall ne'er be furled. 
Till Truth supreme illumes the world. 

Then go, fair Astrea, on thy way. 
Though fierce the strife and dark the day, 
From battle's din, turn not to me, 
Till on thy brow shall mirrored be 
Triumph of Cause consigned to Thee. 



" Rest artist, thy work is done." 



pe 




G^,Oil^ 



INDEX. 



A Prophecy 11 

Awake 23 

Bom Again ;. . 24 

Be Strong •• 19 

Birth of Astrea 104 

Conservatism vs. Spiritualism 21 

Children's Lyceum 28 

Compensation 81 

Dedicated to Mrs. O. M. W 55 

Freedom's Promise 62 

Gray Dawn of the Morn 13 

Greeting to Maine 93 

Homestead Voices 87 

Homeward 89 

Invocation 16 

Impromptu — 100 

Inscribed to My Sister 102 

Justice 76 

Labor is Worship 36 

Lessons 57 

Love 74 

Macedonia 67 

Our Banner 18 

Our Little Freddie 26 

One More Unfortunate 32 

Ode 46 

Off Acapulco 91 

Progress '2 

Reveille 60 

Retrospection 83 

Revisited 96 

To Eliza 17 

T,he Higher Birth 22 

To Maggie 30 

Take Courage 41 

The Pen and Sword 50 

To Ada 52 

Trust 79 

The Inner Life 85 

The Indian's Warning 98 

To Mrs. H. E. G . . . -. g 

Wayside Blossoms 34 

What Cheer 38 

Woman and Man 44 

Womanhood 64 

Woman ' 70 



LIBRARY OF 



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